


Waterlogged

by Megane



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Family, Friendship, Hallucinations, Inattentive, Loss of Parent(s), Loss of time, Minor Character(s), Muffled Voices, Near Death Experiences, Rain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-20
Updated: 2016-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-18 22:16:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29989644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Megane/pseuds/Megane
Summary: The group arrives in a new city on their trip. It's 2PM. It's raining, and Noctis sees everything all at once.





	Waterlogged

Noctis wasn't sure where they were. They were in a city; all of the buildings were close enough to touch. It had been hot all day – a real scorcher. Noctis figured that the buildings being so close together probably trapped the heat too. On top of it being hot, everyone was on edge. Noctis was stuck in a dream like state all day. Prompto kept pulling at his skin or rubbing his arms. Ignis could hardly sit still, and Gladio was tense in his own way, checking their backs unprompted or watching the crowd pass with a trained eye. Noctis couldn't put his finger on what caused the shift, but he didn't have the mental capacity to try.

From what he remembered, they had arrived in the early afternoon. Two… ish, maybe. He remembered Ignis saying something about that, but with the rain, it looked like it was closer to night time. People swarmed around him, but they were silent.

Either that, or the rain was deafening…

_“Your Highness–”_

The title came to him like it was pulled from his mind. Was that really Ignis or just some conditioned memory playing in his mind. Noctis shook his head and looked forward again. Surely enough, Ignis was staring back at him. Prompto and Gladio stood at his sides. Prompto looked miserable while Gladio just felt it. Noctis nodded his head and began forward again, but soon enough, he was on his own.

How did he get here?

When did he get back to Lucis…? It had been ruined, burned down, but in this tinted window, he could see himself and the torrential rain. The castle was right behind him. A guard stood at his back, leaning against the wall and yawning. Wasn't she aware of the rain…? How could she be so nonchalant at a moment like this?

Noctis turned around and saw the interior of the castle, his home. The roof was broken. Pieces had disappeared. The architecture had caved in, but in spite of this, it was still beautiful. His fingers trembled. His body swayed with each step that he took. Scribes and royalty passed in front of him. A shoulder knocked into him, and the reality of it all was enough to make his heart hammer in his chest.

He looked over his shoulder. He was back in the city. Someone with long red hair and beautiful clothing was half-jogging in heels to get out of the rain. A manilla folder covered their head, but it wasn't enough. It couldn't protect well against the rain. How could it stand to a vision…?

_“Noctis!”_

Noctis jolted in place and looked straight ahead. The castle interior darkened. It looked decrepit now, like the long lost ruins of a civilisation. The walls were blackened; the red running carpet in the hall was ruined and soot stained. _“Noctis!”_ There it was again. The echo of Prompto's voice led Noctis around a corner. The prince stood at the top of the front stairs. He stared blankly out to his kingdom covered in ash.

Noctis took a step forward to be on the same level as everything else. He wanted to see. He wanted to see what remained of his world, even if it was all in his mind.

His foot slipped.

Noctis' eyes widened as he went sailing down. Something yanked his collar, and his eyes closed briefly. When he was caught, he stared down at the dark water. He could see his reflection, and for a moment, he remembered when the Regalia flipped him into the ocean. He could see another reflection.

Gladio.

Prompto was holding Gladio's hand to keep him steady, and Ignis was holding onto him. With tight lips and knitted brows, Gladiolus pulled his companion up. When Noctis was on his feet, he barely registered the others talking to him. He nodded his head maybe he when was supposed to; he opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Nothing noteworthy, if anything at all.

“…him… hotel…” said Ignis.

“Roger –”

Noctis was lifted up into Gladio's arms. Wet chest, wet jacket – and yet Gladio was incredibly warm. It was then that Noctis noticed he was chilled down to his bones. He tucked closer to his friend. The world passed by in raindrops and muffled voices. In blurred time and hazy visions.

His father's hand passed over his head. Fingers carded through Noctis' hair and then gently tapped at his cheek. _“Hey, sunshine. The shower's ready.”_

Who said that…?

Noctis blinked open his eyes. Prompto was kneeling down beside him. Noctis frowned and swept a hand out, pushing the blond away before standing up on his own two feet. He shed his clothes in the bathroom. The shower water hissed on, and Noctis tensed suddenly. He relaxed and stared at the frost glass door. When he saw a shadow pass behind him, he knew it was time to clean up.

The water was hot enough to scald; each drop was painful, but Noctis didn't relent.

He reached up and combed his fingers through his hair, shoving back his bangs out of his eyes. He glanced over to his left through the glass door of his shower. His clothes laid in a wet pile on his bathroom floor. Water dribbled out of his boots; his other clothes were clammy. Some of his other accessories were scattered within the clothing, but they were just as damp.  
His skin was red in some areas; he was hot all over. The water stopped. He stepped out. He ran the towel over himself. Then the mirror.

The roof was in pieces. The wall behind him was smokey and soot coloured. Noctis tipped his head down and stared down at the sink. He closed his eyes. He could feel the rain on his shoulders. A reassuring hand.

His mind was a bit waterlogged; his senses were still dull. But when the knock sounded against the bathroom door, he heard it loud and clear. “Just a minute,” he mumbled, pushing away from the counter. He wrapped his towel around his waist and gathered clothes – and his life – into his arms.


End file.
